


better than Shakespeare

by gothyringwald



Series: state of the heart (harringrove tumblr fic) [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bad Poetry, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and the only person Steve wants a Valentine from is the person least likely to give him one...right?





	better than Shakespeare

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr on Valentine's Day but I figured I'd share it here, too! Though rather belatedly.
> 
> Shout-out to [manskinpants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manskinpants/pseuds/manskinpants) for one of the poems. I modified the other one from something I found on Reddit, I believe.

There is a small scrap of paper on the driver’s seat when Steve opens his car door that morning. It’s unassuming, something that probably fell out of his notebook, but Steve picks it up and unfolds it as he slides into his car, anyway.

He sets his backpack on the passenger seat and settles back. It’s the 14th of February but he’s not expecting anything. Sure, he’ll probably get a few Valentines, even if he doesn’t hold quite the heartthrob status he once did, but the only person he wants one from is the person least likely to give him one.

Billy has made it clear that not only are they not boyfriends—no strings attached, Harrington, that’s the deal—he also thinks Valentine’s Day is sentimental bullshit. Steve has more chance of getting a Valentine from Keith at the arcade.

So, Steve doesn’t think anything of the paper. It’s only a scrap, after all. But, when he reads it over, a pleased laugh startles out of him. It’s a poem and it’s ridiculous. He reads it, again:

_Roses are fine,_  
_Violets are coarse,_  
_I’ll show you mine,_  
_If you show me yours._

____

Not exactly the height of romance but it’s from Billy—Steve knows his spindly handwriting from the projects they’ve done together—and that makes a goofy grin spread over his face. He shakes his head as he pulls out of the drive and heads to school.

__

There is another note waiting in Steve’s locker. It’s just as ridiculous as the first—another vaguely lewd ‘roses are red’ type verse—but it makes Steve grin like an idiot all through first period, just the same.

The notes keep appearing, throughout the day, each one more explicit than the last. Billy winks at him from across the cafeteria when Steve finds the paper under his plate of meatloaf—has Billy enlisted the help of the lunch lady? How does he keep leaving notes for Steve without Steve seeing him?—and Steve has to admire his audacity. He rolls his eyes, then nearly spits his apple juice all over Jonathan when he reads the poem.

_Roses are red_  
_Violets are blue_  
_My dick gets hard_  
_Only for you_

____

____

Nancy and Jonathan both turn matching looks of concern on him—Steve feels bad for intruding on their lunch on Valentine’s Day but they’d insisted he sit with them—but he just waves them off, tucking into his meatloaf and asking Jonathan something about photography that keeps the conversation well away from what had made Steve nearly choke.

By the end of the day he has eight pieces of scrap paper tucked safely into the book they’re reading for English. (He has a few Valentines from some of the girls, including one from a sophomore whose face had been as red as her hair when she handed it over with a mumbled 'Happy Valentine’s Day’, her friends giggling behind their hands across the hall. Steve had only managed to say 'thank-you’ before she bolted, friends still giggling as they trailed behind her.) The poems are ridiculous and not at all sexy but they’re from Billy and Steve can’t deny that makes him happy. He’s not sure if it means Billy’s talk of 'sentimental bullshit’ and 'we’re not boyfriends’ is just that, talk, or not, but they make Steve hope in a way he hasn’t until now.

When Steve makes his way to his car, after school, he finds Billy waiting for him (but trying to look like he isn’t).

'Got your poems,’ Steve says, by way of greeting. It’s the first time he’s spoken to Billy all day.

Billy looks up at him, ashes the cigarette he’s been smoking. 'Yeah?’

'Yeah,’ Steve says. He nudges Billy’s shoulder. 'I never knew you were so romantic. I mean, I’m practically swooning.’ Steve digs one of the poems out. “Poetry is hard and so is my dick’. That’s just…it got me right here, man,’ Steve says, fisting his hand over his heart. It thuds, hard, beneath his hand despite his words.

'Whatever, Harrington,’ Billy says, trying, Steve thinks, to sound gruff, but his lips quirk. 'You’re just jealous because I’m a poetic genius.’

'I know, I know. I guess I never realised Billy was short for William as in Shakespeare.’

Billy huffs out a laugh. 'Yuk it up, pretty boy.’

Steve smiles. He looks around—no one else is within earshot. 'So, are you going to make good on the poems?’

Billy raises a brow. 'Make good on what exactly?’

'Well, I remember something about hard dicks and showing me yours if I show you mine.’

Billy fixes him with a disbelieving look. 'You’ve just insulted my poetry prowess. Don’t think you’re getting any of this,’ Billy says, waving a hand in front of himself.

'Prowess might be overstating it.’

'You wound me.’

'Aww, I’m sorry.’

'No, you’re not.’

There’s no way Steve can kiss Billy out here, like he wants to, so he settles for catching Billy’s little finger in his. 'I liked the poems.’

'Yeah?’ Billy squeezes Steve’s finger.

Steve nods and leans in, smiling. 'Way better than Shakespeare.’

Billy laughs, properly, then, not even trying to hide it. Steve’s stomach flips. Billy shakes his head and says, 'Get in the damn car,’ and gets into the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW.

Steve frowns. 'What about your car?’

'I’ll come back for it,’ Billy says, leaning across the console with a heated look. 'Your car has a bigger backseat.’

Steve presses his lips together, swallowing thickly and nods. 'Right,’ he says, and jumps into the car, jamming the keys into the ignition.

As Steve pulls out of the lot, Billy’s hand curled around his thigh, Billy says, 'Like you’ve ever read Shakespeare.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) 
> 
> I know it's a bit late for Valentine's Day but yeah. As I said in the beginning notes, this was originally [posted on tumblr for Valentine's Day](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/170879708221/better-than-shakespeare) but I think I'm going to start posting a select few of my tumblr ficlets on AO3, too? And figured I'd start with this one! (If I do post more I'll link them as a series). You can see the rest of them [under this tag for the time being](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/tagged/tumblr-only-fic), though.
> 
> Feel free to come find me on [tumblr @gothyringwald](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
